


One's Muse

by Megane



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Camping, Creative Outlet, Gen, Haphephobia, Idle Touches, Lazy Days, M/M, Painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Libra is having a rather creative day. Lon'qu becomes his muse without even knowing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One's Muse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheepskin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepskin/gifts).



            “'ey, Libra?”

Libra brought his head up when his name was called. He saw Henry leaning in from the doorway, his body hidden by the partly opened door. The dark mage smiled mischievously in acknowledgement and pushed the door opened slightly as he walked in. Libra gently folded the parchment, hiding it away as Henry entered the room. He flipped the charcoal in his grip and reached out for the vial extended out to him. He smiled as he regarded the chilled water within. Henry placed his hands behind his back and rocked onto his heels.

            “That good?” he asked.

            “My thanks to you,” Libra replied. He set the bottle down beside his foot and motioned to the lidded clay vase set on the table across from him. “And that's for you.”

            Henry tittered and walked over to the vase, sweeping it up with both hands. “Neato! Thanks a lot.”

            “May it be to your liking.”

            “I'll let you know if it isn't!”

            Libra chuckled and watched as his comrade turned towards the door. “I'm sure you will.”

Henry held the vase up above his head as he exited the room. Libra watched the mage leave and sighed softly when the door closed again. He unfurled the parchment and set to work. He plotted his next creative course of action as he reviewed the drawing in his lap. He was working on a practice sketch of the room he was in. There was nothing special about it particularly. It was the lighting that made all the difference. There wasn't much he wanted to add. He tipped his head and glanced around, making sure he captured every detail he wanted. He added a bit of shading to some key areas. When he was done, he stood up from the stool he was sitting in and headed over to the window.

He pushed it open, and the voices outside flooded into the stuffy room. He took in a deep breath of clean air, eyes fluttering closed as he did. Libra held still for a long while, enjoying the feel of the sun against his skin. When he opened his eyes again, he took a look at the outside. There was a destroyed wall a bit away from where he was standing now. There was a tree in the distance with broken flag poles and ruined banners littering the field. It was… almost poetic, he thought. He pushed away from the window and closed it again. He walked by the stool, set it aside, and picked up his vial of water before exiting the room. He tapped the glass against his cheek and was happy that the water was still chilly. He wasn't surprised. After all, Henry was the one who enchanted the bottle.

Libra entered his room and set his sketches and charcoal away. He was careful in storing his tools, making sure he didn't leave charcoal marks behind. He was pulling out fresh papers when there was a knock at his door. He turned, seeing Lon'qu standing in the doorway. The monk paused and nodded his head at Lon'qu. As he turned his back, Libra heard Lon'qu step inside and settle against the wall.

            “Good day to you, Lon'qu,” Libra greeted. “Is there something I could help you with?”

            “Heard Henry gave something to you. Just wanted to make sure all your limbs were in place.”

            “Hm?” Libra hummed, lips quirking up in the corner. “And how did you hear something like that?”

There was a soft groan, and Libra found himself smiling. He gathered up the small box of paint stones he had, the papers, and a brush before turning to his short haired companion.

“Henry came outside with a vase and set it down on the ground triumphantly. He seemed a bit too proud of himself, so I asked where he acquired it.” Lon'qu tipped his head slightly, stretching his neck. “He said he got it from you,” he groaned, bringing up a hand and rubbing over the spot. “So I came to make sure you were okay.”

            “Is that all?”

            “That and whatever manner of mischief he's about to get himself into I would rather not be a part of.”

            Libra smiled. “Fair enough. Care to join me outside?”

At this, Lon'qu let out a noncommittal noise, and Libra was the first to step outside the room. Lon'qu closed the door behind them, and they set off to the outside. Libra sighed through his nose as they headed towards the destroyed wall. Lon'qu fell in step beside him and tilted his head towards Libra. The monk glanced up but gave no reply. Lon'qu closed his eyes briefly and looked away, continuing to follow the other male's lead.

As Libra set down his supplies, Lon'qu placed his hands on his hips, staring out towards the field.

            “How long do you plan on staying out here?” he asked.

            “Not for very long,” Libra replied, carefully shaking the glass. The water within was warming but very slowly. “You don't have to keep me company.”

Lon'qu hummed, and Libra stared up at him. Lon'qu glanced back over his shoulder towards the camp before shrugging and staring out in front of him again.

            “That's fine with me.” He lowered his hands and began walking forward. “I think I see a Feroxi banner.” He glanced back to Libra. “I'll be right back.”

            Libra smiled and lowered his gaze down to the box. “Be careful.”

Lon'qu left without another word, and Libra set himself down carefully, drawing up his legs as he leaned against the wall. The ground was a mix of short, soft grass and gravel. He uncorked the bottle and grabbed his brush. He gazed out to the scene in front of him, watching Lon'qu walk into the high grass. The monk kept his gaze on the sword fighter's back for a few moments before drawing his attention down to the box. He opened up the box, revealing the dull, splotch coloured paint stones. Libra dipped his brush into the warming water and stroked over one of the stones. It was time to paint.

He framed the painting off in a light green circle that covered the center of his paper. He began painting the grass. From the outside of the circle, he worked in light strokes with little detail. On the inside, he worked with broader, colourful sweeps of green and water light brown. He painted the thick low hanging clouds in the dark blue sky. He briefly wondered if it would rain, eyes squinting as the clouds passed from in front of the sun. He blinked away the spots in his vision and looked down. Off in the distance, Lon'qu was standing with a banner in his arms.

He was probably examining the make and wear of the item, but from where Libra was sitting, Lon'qu looked like a soldier contemplating the ruins of war. Perhaps he was in some regard. Libra lifted a hand to tuck back his hair behind his ear and set to painting what he saw.

Libra worked carefully but quickly, trying to block the imagery down on the environment he had already painted. The water within the vial was at its proper warmth; the colours mixed within the water and swirled about lazily. Libra stroked his brush against the mouth of the bottle and sometimes blotted the brush against the back of his hand, properly taking away the moisture to his liking. Lon'qu had moved from his position sometime during Libra's painting, but it was fine.

The monk had already laid down the shapes he needed. It was all about filling in the details mostly. He worked carefully, slowly losing himself in his piece as was common. Libra carefully detailed Lon'qu's clothing and how the light hit him. Libra wasn't sure the exact expression Lon'qu had on his face, but he painted what seemed fitting for the moment. He heard voices very clearly off to his left and turned his head. It was only Robin and Lissa talking excitedly to each other. They weren't close, but it sure sounded like it. Libra reached up with his free hand and collected his hair against his palm, drawing it all back behind his head.

He leaned back, holding his brush off to the side as he examined the picture. He stretched his fingers and shook out his hand… and accidentally knocked over his water. He turned his body away and gently picked up the bottle. Lon'qu's boots crunched down against the gravel and dry earth as he approached. Libra brought up his attention.

            Lon'qu glanced down to the bottle and then to the monk. “… Are you having troubles?”

            “I'm fine,” Libra dismissed, dipping his brush into the water and leaving it. “I'm actually just finishing up.”

Lon'qu opened his mouth to say something and immediately held back. Libra watched the Myrmidon quietly before bringing his attention down to his tools. Lon'qu came closer.

            “Hold to your painting. I'll collect these things for you.”

            “How magnanimous of you,” Libra stated, carefully setting his hands on either side of the parchment as he stood.

            Lon'qu scoffed and bent down. “I'm not doing you a trifle favour, merely offering my assistance.”

            Libra nodded once, eyes lowering down to the painting. “My apologies.”

Lon'qu closed the box and collected the vial and its stopper. He stood up again and looked to Libra. Their eyes met, and Lon'qu made a face. Libra tried to hide his surprise but was sure that he failed. Lon'qu stepped closer and brought up a hand.

            “You've paint in your hair,” he chastised, drawing down a thick lock of blond hair. “Even on your face as well. Are you always a mess when you create masterpieces?”

Libra wasn't sure how to respond. His shoulders were tense from Lon'qu touching his hair. He had long learned to ebb the nausea whenever Lon'qu touched him, even indirectly, but it still made him feel a bit wound tight. The other fighter noticed the tension and drew his hand away with a murmured apology. Despite this, he gave Libra a leveling look. He was expecting an answer.

            “Ah, it is no masterpiece,” Libra stated, thumbs brushing the negative space on the parchment. “Merely a musing.”

            “A musing? Either way, I didn't know your body was also a canvas.”

            Libra laughed, eyes closing in the moment. “One must truly be dedicated to one's art.”

            Lon'qu scoffed and nodded his head towards the barracks. “Be dedicated to a wash.”

            The laugh came easily, though surprised. “Such a sharp tongue.”

They fell in step once again as they headed back towards the barracks. Libra's eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of sun and the dusty air inside the building. He pushed open the door to his room; Lon'qu set the supplies down near Libra's things. Libra stared down at the painting wondering, for the first time, if he should share what he created. As he turned, Lon'qu's name was called down the hall. Lon'qu excused himself and exited, heading towards the voice.

The monk relaxed with a heavy breath, shoulders slumping visibly. Ah well. He glanced down to his painting and smiled a bit. He placed it somewhere it wouldn't be disturbed as it dried. He pulled his hands away, noticing the dried paint and water spots that had settled on his skin. Lon'qu was right; he could do with a wash. Libra laughed softly and exited out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

It was always good to listen to one's muse, creatively or otherwise.

 


End file.
